


Jeg kjøper deg en annen jævla maske

by orphan_account



Series: Lite Engelsk [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: 9 year difference, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cold Weather, Deformity, ERIK HAS A MAGIC PIANO, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Erik just thinks its hot when Raoul speaks norwegian, Erik's Deformity is Actually a Burn Scar, Explicit Language, Foreign Character, Foreign Language, German Character, I can't believe that's actually a tag, Language Barrier, Language Kink, Literally Everyone is Pansexual, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character Death(s), Panic Attacks, Piano Magic, Raoul is 26 and Erik is 35 sooo, Raoul is Norwegian, Raoul is a heatseeker but what do you expect norway is cold af, Raoul is unprepared for the winter, Raoul's Dad is Dead, Triggers, and i don't blame him, but like not really, translator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> He was afraid to touch what was beautiful, in fear of tainting them with what he hid so valiantly.</em><br/> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>"Don't fall for someone in costume."</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>"Until about nine at night! I'm being courted!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>"Waggle your fingers."</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em> "You cuddled with me for about 15 minutes before muttering something about Tom and pushing me on the floor. Raoul, you've been skipping class for almost a week. People are getting worried. If your ass isn't in the shower in 15, I'm dragging it there. Fully clothed." </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeg kjøper deg en annen jævla maske

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sakurai_Ai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakurai_Ai/gifts).
  * Inspired by [(I'm Not) Fluent In You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2608373) by [the_sky_is_forever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever). 



> All dialogue in italics is Norwegian, and all in regular is English. Enjoy! End notes for any possible trigger warnings.
> 
> I needed to post something that was finished.  
> This came together a lot better than I expected it to. This took for-freaking-ever to write. 
> 
> If I make any "raoul being raised in Norway not america" mistakes, chalk it up to the culturally aware mother Therese. Please.  
> PSA- I FULLY UNDERSTAND THAT THE COLLEGE IS VERY UNREALISTIC
> 
> There is a Supernatural reference, comment if you find it!

 Raoul kicked up dust, trying not to cry as the weight of being lost in a country he was foreign to finally hit him. He shouldn't have gone on this trip and he should have taken English as a second language.

Stuck with a handful of American money he barely understood, he twiddled his thumbs, trying to think of a plan. His beautiful mother, Therese, had lovingly joked with Raoul before he got on the airplane, his mother's eyes sparkling with tears as they sparkled on her dress. Raoul plopped down on the nearest bench. “ _Raoul, you'll find your way there. Look for the modest man who's smile reaches his ears.”_ Therese had told him.

As tears fell onto his slacks, he was reminded of the mist that had consumed the air during the morning Raoul left Norway. A few minutes later, a balding older man approached him. “You okay, boy?” His head gleamed, Raoul noted. “Little English.” He stuttered as a response, his thick accent clouding the letters. “Norwegian?” he asked. The bald man shook his head and walked away. Raoul let the tears fall heavier this time.

 

A taller man with a mask covering half of his face approached him and crouched down so he was looking up at Raoul. “Are you lost?” Raoul nodded, tears still pouring from his eyes. “Little English.” Those were some of the only words he knew. “What language do you speak?” The man asked. “Norwegian.” Raoul responded. The masked man visibly brightened. _“I only know a little, but I am sure it is enough to help out. Is this acceptable?”_ He tripped over some of the words, but the meaning came across clearly to Raoul who smiled.

_“What is your name?_ ”

“I am Raoul de Chagny. And yours?” The man looked amused at Raoul's french name. _“My father was French and my mother was culturally aware.”_ he offered as an explanation. _“Culturally aware?_ ” The man repeated, not understanding. After thinking for a moment, Raoul said _“My mother knew about many countries.”_

The man nodded. _“I am Erik Destler.”_ He smiled warmly. “May I buy you something to eat?” Raoul nodded, wiping tears from his eyes. Erik took Raoul's hand and lead him into a small shop. Raoul tried not to react as his cold fingers intertwined with Erik's which were inexplicably warm. Erik did not let go of Raoul's hand until they sat down.

After the food ordering confusion had passed, and both men had warm meals in the cold weather, Raoul started to shiver. “Are you cold?” Erik asked. Raoul nodded. Erik carefully took off his black trench coat and slid it over Raoul, who protested weakly before giving in. Erik's jacket was warm. Almost warmer than Erik's hand had been, and Raoul had to restrain himself from burrowing into the shoulder and falling asleep. Erik seemed unfazed by the cold air. _“Did you come here to visit someone?_ ” Raoul shook his head. “Alone, new school.” Erik nodded. The pair made light conversation and sooner than either would have liked, Erik had to leave for a work meeting. 

Raoul settled into his dorm before he realized that he was still wearing the masked man's coat.

* * *

 

Therese's words rang in Raoul's ears as he slept. " _Look for the modest man who's smile reaches his ears."_

Raoul woke up to his phone ringing. Philippe! Raoul's brother Philippe lived in eastern New Hampshire, and had been for the past seven years. He had been very excited to see his younger brother moving to the country Philippe loved so much.

  
Raoul answered the phone immediately. "Raoul! So nice to hear you! I can't believe I haven't seen you in three years, you must come visit."

... " _What?"_

Philippe laughed. " _My apologies, younger brother. As I was saying, I can't believe its been three years since I saw you last! You must visit."_

Raoul smiled. He loved his brother. " _I miss you. It is much colder here than I expected. I forgot to bring my coat. Actually, yesterday, soon after I arrived here, a nice man let me borrow his coat and I forgot to return it. I don't understand why his phone number was on a slip of paper in one of the pockets, but regardless, I must call him later today."_  
  
Philippe snickered. " _You've only been here for a day and you've already found yourself a suitor. My my."_ Although he would never admit it, Raoul blushed at this prospect. " _He is not a suitor. Merely a very nice man."_

_"Was he attractive?"_  
  
"That is a matter of opinion."

_"Raoul, was he attractive."_  
_"Yes."_   Raoul did not hesitate when he said this.

_"What was his name, Raoul?"_

_"Erik Destler. He wore a mask that covered the right side of his face. He was tall but thin, wore dark clothes, and had pale skin."_

_"A mask? He sounds attractive to me. When can you visit?"_

It was Raoul's turn to laugh. He was in the middle of Nevada. It would take days to trek all the way to New Hampshire.

" _Yes, a mask. Next summer, but only if you can come up with a ride for me."_

_"You could take that Destler boy."_ This time they both laughed.

 

Raoul paused for a long moment before finally speaking. " _I must go for class. I love you. I will call you later."_

 

Raoul dreaded class. When he walked in, the teacher sighed. "And here is your new classmate now." He tilted his head in confusion. Most of the words he understood, but not enough to make sense. The teacher (His name was on the board. It looked like it said 'Mr. Milligan'. He'd have to make an effort to pronounce that one) raised his eyebrows before nodding. "Norwegian. Right." Some of the students snickered.

"Rudelle here will be your translator." Raoul nodded and smiled. _Translator. He understood that word_. "After class you will discuss which electives to take."

Rudelle was a homely girl who looked serious about school. She was nice and a fantastic translator. She was fluent and got all of her grammar correct. She looked foreign to both America and Norway, and Raoul couldn't help wondering what her first language actually was. With Rudelle, class was a breeze. They made fast friends.

The first thing he did when he got back to his dorm was call  Philippe." _Hello Philippe. Class went well."_

_"Whoa little bro. Didn't expect you to call so soon. How did it **really** go?  You know, being in an English-speaking class without knowing English?" _

_"Philippe, it went well. I had a wonderful translator named Rudelle. She was fluent in both and translated perfectly!"_

Philippe snickered. "Was she hot?"

...

" _Was she what?"_

_"Nevermind. I have to go. You need to go too. Go call the Destler boy."_ Raoul smiled. "Goodbye. I love you."

" _You're getting better at this whole English thing. I love you too, little brother."_

Raoul hung up and wasted no time retrieving the phone number from the coat pocket. He was forced to wear the too-big coat to class, as he had expected it to be much warmer and did not bring anything heavy enough.

He picked up his phone. It was still warm in his hand. Nerves approaching a new high, he dialed the number. He noted that it wasn't the common area code here. Was _everyone_ foreign?

"Hello." A cool voice greeted Raoul. "Erik. _You.. You left your coat."_ Raoul could almost _feel_ Erik's grin radiating through the phone.

 

" _Hello Raoul. I know. I meant to. Am I being too forward in saying I'd like to see you again?"_ Raoul blushed. He wondered if Erik could _feel_ that.

"No, _not at all. Would you like to meet sometime so I can return it?"_ There was a long pause, and Raoul heard typing. " _I apologize, I am.."_ Another pause. "... _translating. I can come tomorrow, just text me directions."_ Raoul almost swooned. _Almost._ The call ended soon after. Directions were sent and Erik replied immediately. " _I'll pick you up at 6."_

 

Class was relatively the same as it had been the previous day, except today there were three classes instead of one. He was distracted throughout most of them, with only dutiful Rudelle keeping him focused. Translating had to be tough on her, but when he took notes of what she said he made sure to copy a set for her. It was a win-win situation, it helped her to study by translating what the teacher said, and it helped Raoul to study by writing his notes down twice. They were studying together that afternoon. Granted, there wasn't much to study, but it was a way to pass time. Rudelle joked about how little English Raoul knew. _"If I could learn four languages before I turned 18, you can learn a second language before you turn forty."_

_"Not everyone is as talented as you,_ Rudelle _."_ He responded, but he smiled.

" _Don't you have a date to get ready for?"_

Raoul reddened slightly. " _I was never aware it was a date."_  

" _Pshh, it is so a date. Put on something fancy, and hurry up. It's almost seven!"_

* * *

" _A mask? Sounds mysterious."_

_"It's probably nothing to worry about, Rudelle. Plenty of people wear masks."_

_"People in costume wear masks. Don't fall for someone in a costume."_

* * *

The doorbell rung. " _I'll get it!!"_ Rudelle laughed and opened the door. "Erik?" she asked. He nodded stiffly. "I wasn't aware Raoul would be having company -?"  Rudelle laughed. "My name is Rudelle, and I translate for Raoul in classes. _Pretty boy,_ you've got nothing to worry about with me." She rolled her eyes. "Loosen up. He's getting ready." He sat on a desk chair that squeezed. He was thin for his height, but that didn't mean he wasn't large.

Erik gestured to the papers on the floor. "What classes do you two take?" Rudelle sat on the thin loveseat and shrugged. "All of them together, if that's what you're asking. Most of this is his, y'know. He wants to look serious on the pre-test. But anyways, we take all the basics and a few extras. A few extra sciences for me and some history from him. A theater elective for the both of us, _even though he's shyer than a duck_. By the end of my four years we'll both have double majors. But, since I translate for him, all of his electives are free for me. We split theater, since we both wanted to take it."

Erik nodded just as Raoul walked in, wearing a red, fitted, long sleeved button up, black slacks and _Erik's coat_. Erik couldn't decide if he were more struggling to restrain himself from gaping like a teenager or pinning Raoul to the wall. Erik instead strode toward Raoul confidently. "Be home before morning! _Use protection!"_ Rudelle added and Raoul giggled, praying Erik didn't understand that. Judging by the confused look on his face, Raoul could assume that Erik didn't understand and they left.

* * *

_"Your friend is... Colorful.”_  
  
_“We have only known each other for two days, but she is my closest, excluding my brother, Philippe.”_  
  
Erik shrugged. “Talk about yourself.”  
“I lived in a cold country and did not expect America to be cold as well.”  
  
Erik leaned over the small table and whispered to Raoul. _“Try that again in your own language.”_  
Feeling confident, Raoul sat back in his chair. _“I am 26. I lived in a barren town in the middle of nowhere. I was raised in the equivalent of a trailer. My mother, Therese, is beautiful. My father is in heaven now, but my mother. She is gorgeous. And Philippe? I love him. He raised me just as much as my mother did.”_  
  
Erik grinned. _“The only words I understood were Therese, beautiful, gorgeous, Philippe, love. Is there another lover you are keeping from me? Have lines between you and your brother blurred?”_ he joked. _“I can't bring myself to mind. I love hearing your voice.”_

Raoul blushed redder than a tomato. “ _Philippe is family. Forgive me if I praise him with enthusiasm. And Therese? My mother. Tell me about yourself. The mask. Tell me about the mask.”_ Seeing as Erik didn't understand, he gestured to the mask.

This was the wrong thing to do.

 

Erik stiffened up and started shaking, shaking his whole body, shaking his head no. “No. No , please!” He rocked back and forth in his seat. Raoul apologized in Norwegian rapidly before rushing to Erik's side and holding out a hand. He leaned close and whispered. _“Come on, Erik. It's alright. Lets go outside. Everything is gonna be okay.”_ Erik nodded and time stood still (and so did everyone in the too-fancy restaurant) as Raoul led him outside where they sat against a wall. Raoul leaned in close. _“Is this okay?”_ Erik did his best to nod before he was engulfed by a chilly Raoul. “It's alright. I'm right here. It's okay. You're okay. We're fine.” he repeated to Erik like a chant.  Erik was holding him, and Erik was warm. He was really, really warm. Erik choked back a sob and Raoul looked up at him. “Erik. Look at me. Look at the ground. _Do you see the snow?_ Look at the people walking. _Do you think the couple across the street is in love?_ Look at me. _Can you see me?_ ” Erik held still for a moment before nodding. “I am staying here. Is that okay?” Erik nodded again, more confidently this time. Raoul wiped away a tear with his thumb and Erik let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "You.. You don't have to stay." Erik looked at the ground embarrassed. Raoul smiled. " _I'm staying because I want to stay."  
_

Erik looked sadly at Raoul and a few more tears fell. "I'm a mess. Why would you want to stay?"

 

" _Because I can."_

* * *

_"I'm really sorry, Raoul. I thought you were asking me to take the mask off and I just. I can't do that right now."_  
  
"I would never ask you to unless you were comfortable with it. It is my fault. I should have learned more English before I came."  Raoul spoke very slowly so Erik could translate. _“You are improving. I should have studied Norwegian more.”_

Raoul sat. They were back at his dorm." _You have improved enough to hold a conversation, I see.”_

“Study English instead of a test you're expected to fail on.” Raoul grinned at this.

 

_“I could study you all night long.” Erik whispered.  
_

_"And I could do the same with you.” Raoul smirked and stood.  
_

 

"I must be going. Don't study too hard." After a pause, Erik spoke. His tone was somewhat cold, but he grinned at the end like some child who had just made a great joke. He strode forward to meet Raoul, but what Raoul was expecting never came and he was instead kissed on the forehead by the larger, masked man, who disappeared like a ghost, leaving Raoul standing alone in a dim dorm.

For the first time "since he had reached America, Raoul slept well.

" _Look for the modest man who's smile reaches his ears, Raoul. Don't come home without him."_ Therese sang at him in his dreams. It was overwhelmingly loud, and grew louder and louder until Raoul woke up covered in sweat. Raoul shook, sitting up. He took in his surroundings and sat still until his eyes had adjusted. Raoul then stood up and roughly grabbed an orange off of his counter top. Peeling it, he sat on the counter and started to collect the peels in a small bin to throw out for squirrels. He checked his watch. 5:07. No use going back to bed now. So he fiddled with the button that told him what time it was around the world. It was 8:07 where Philippe lived. He'd be up by now. The whole family was full of early risers. So he picked up his phone and called. _"Raoul! You're up early."_ Raoul smiled. Philippe could always brighten his mood with a sentence. " _Yes, I woke up after a dream and it is too late to go back to sleep."_

_"Not a nightmare, I hope. I am too far away to hold you while you cry."_ Philippe teased.

" _I am no longer seven, Philippe."_

_"You did not stop this behavior until you were thirteen.'_

_"Twelve."  
_

_"Whatever. How did talking with Destler go?"_  
Raoul laughed and realized he hadn't told Philippe a thing. _"Will you stop calling him Destler? His name is Erik. And things went very well. I was out last night."_  
  
_"Until dawn?"_  
  
_"Until about nine at night. I'm being courted!"_   Raoul groaned, although he really didn't mind at all.

_"He acknowledges your beauty and chooses to wine and dine instead of trashing you after the first. Sounds like a respectable man. I wouldn't take any less if I were you. And, seeing as I'm not you, I'll murder him if he hurts you."  
_

_"You're in New Hampshire."_  
"I'm also well off and can easily spare some money for a plane ticket."  
Raoul rolled his eyes, grinning. His brother had made it far in the world, and that was why Raoul was in Norway in the first place.

_"Anyways, how did your date go?"_

_"Decent, I suppose. He wanted me to talk about myself, in Norwegian, and he only understood a total of five words. It was alright though. Everything worked out in the end."_ Raoul hesitated before deciding that he would not tell Philippe about the mask.

_"Any action?_ "

"No." Raoul hurriedly barked in English.

" _Not even a kiss? Are you sure this date went well."_

_"A kiss on the forehead. Yes, Philippe. I am sure that it went well."_

_"Are you keeping something from me, little brother?" "_

Yes." Raoul didn't elaborate any further. _"Not my secret._ " Philippe hummed in understanding.

"Just remember what Mother always told you. Look for the modest man who's smile reaches his ears."

 

"I love you, Philippe. I must prepare for class."

"Your English is improving already! Call me tomorrow. Love you." The phone clicked as Philippe hung up.Raoul laughed to himself. There was no class today. He had no classes on Wednesday, so Raoul set to work with a slow computer and a English dictionary.

* * *

 

_"Philippe? I'm trying to learn English. I can't pronounce anything."_

_"What words are you trying to learn?"_

_"I was going to start by learning how to pronounce the names of my subjects. I know the names, just not how they are pronounced."_

* * *

 

A few days passed. Raoul's English vocabulary had increased tenfold, but still not nearly enough to keep up with his fast talking teachers. Rudelle was not short of work. The dreams had still been haunting Raoul, and he settled down to write a letter. For Therese. He wouldn't be able to ship it to her, but that was okay. It was for closure.

_"Mother,_

_Life here is nice. Philippe and I have been able to talk every day and I have made a lovely friend called Rudelle. She translates for me in classes. I have learned so much English already! Philippe helps me learn._

_I have met a very nice man here. His name is Erik Destler. School is overwhelming, but I am learning. The advanced sciences are my best classes. How is father, and Sindri?"_ Sindri was Therese's Halden Hound she got shortly after her husband died. He was a good dog. " _Tell them I said hello. How is winter with you? Winter here is colder than I had expected it to be. I will have to buy a coat soon._

_Soon I will be able to write an entire letter to you in English._

_Your loving son,_

_Raoul_

 

The phone rang. Erik. Raoul picked it up hesitantly. " _Hello?"_

_"Raoul?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Just calling."_

_"I forgot about something at the restaurant. You never got the chance to tell me about yourself."_

_"Well get out your dictionary because I sure can't tell you my life story in Norwegian."_

Raoul smiled.

"I am 35. Where and with whom I was raised is a different story for a different time. But, as soon as I was legal, I moved halfway across the country to Nevada. I've survived this long, working odd jobs, eventually moving up in the world a little bit. I now work designing theme parks, police stations, and office buildings. I have a certain fondness for Iran, both in its architecture and its people." _  
_

_"You will have to text that to me so I can translate it in its entirety."_

_"Way ahead of you."_ Raoul's phone vibrated and he saw that Erik had actually typed out what he was saying as he said it. He quickly translated it (Praise google translate!) and smiled.  
  
" _Iran sounds.. Colorful."_ He mimicked a tone Erik had used often. This granted him a laugh. The first laugh he had heard from Erik.

"May I visit sometime?" It was the sentence in English he had perfected with Philippe.

Erik hesitated in his reply. _"Of course. I will send you details."_

 

As promised, the address was dutifully sent, and a time the next day was arranged. 2 o'clock.

* * *

 

After some coaching by Rudelle and the purchase of a cheap GPS, Raoul drove to a tall, skinny flat in the better part of the busiest city. It was raining, a cold, thick rain. Raoul knocked on the door, worrying the cuffs of _Erik's_ coat. He was greeted by a warm Erik. "Come in! It's nice to see you." The door widened, and Erik clapped a gloved hand on Raoul's shoulder. ' _He has never touched me with his bare hands.'_ Raoul noted silently, as he followed the tall man. The first thing he saw was he piano. The battered baby grand glistened in the too-small space, and although the rest of the room was cluttered with music stands and bookshelves, the space surrounding the piano was clean. Erik walked up to the piano and Raoul could see a deep love for the instrument in his eyes. Raoul smiled. "Wow. It is beautiful."   
  
" _She."_ Erik corrected softly.

 " _Does she have a name?"_  
  
"Isobel."

_"Beautiful."_ Raoul breathed almost silently. Erik walked towards her lightly, and, entranced by her magic, began to let his fingers dance on the keys. What he played was sad and heavy. Raoul recognized it.

"And ransom captive Israel,  
That mourns in lonely exile here  
Until the Son of God appear.  
Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel  
Shall come to thee, O Israel"

Raoul's voice was soft and young as he sang to the hymn. It had been one of his favorites growing up. His mother liked to expose him to every culture he was aware of. The song was over after long minutes of singing the seemingly endless verses.

He found himself walking towards Erik, who stood up to face Raoul.

He touched a clothed arm, trailed down until his fingertips were in the palm of the recently ungloved hand. " _Isobel is beautiful."_ Erik nodded, still under the trance of his piano's music. If you told him he was talented, he would deny it and say it was all the magic in the piano. Raoul understood that.

Raoul walked towards the piano hesitantly. "May I?"

Erik nodded, and Raoul began to play a seamless tune that stretched his hands. It had always been a challenge piece for him growing up, when his hands were too small and his legs too short. But with his newfound freedom of two-over-an-octave, he was able to mess around with broken chords, throwing base notes in the right hand and a deep harmony in the left. He always played deep. He sung high, a sweet tenor, but he played low, base notes that he didn't expect Erik to sing along to. Raoul again didn't expect it when Erik hovered to the higher range and showed Raoul what it sounded like to have four hands and use all keys religiously.

Their voices mangled with harmonies Raoul didn't know he could reach.

And then, using all twenty fingers between them, they hit a chord. Something Raoul had never heard before. Erik flew away from the piano with a look of frightened understanding. He grabbed a spare piece of sheet music and wrote all seventeen notes that were hit. _"_ It was that chord?!" In giddy fear, he dug through a pile of papers hidden in a closet and picked up a pile of about 30 or so pages of music. Furiously scratching out faint notes, he set to work writing what he would later be known for. He turned to Raoul with tears in his eyes and laughed, revealing dimples. " _I found the chord."_ And then, in a fit of emotion, Erik lifted Raoul's chin with a bony hand and pressed his lips against the younger man. It was chaste, over as soon as it had begun, but still lifted Raoul's spirits. It was a kind of magic to see this man this way.

And so they kissed again. This time wasn't so abrupt, but slow and thoughtful. Erik's clean hand touched Raoul's cheek like it was satin, the same way Erik treated Raoul's lips, and his soul. Like they were made of satin.

Erik didn't know when his eyes closed, or when Raoul touched the porcelain mask with the hand that wasn't balancing him.

But he did remember that when they separated, Raoul's hand had not left the mask. Erik froze. Sensing his movement and having been previously jostled, the mask fell to the floor and shattered.

* * *

 

Raoul looked at him curiously, wondering if a reaction was ever to come. 

Frozen solid in fear, Erik could do nothing but stand there as a calm gaze swept over him. He saw no harshness in Raoul's eyes.

Raoul studied the face. It was all one huge burn mark, with scars painted across it and yellowy patches of skin nearing where hair should have been growing. The blue eye was sunken in the socket, skin surrounding it an unpleasant dark color. The once-beautiful white mask shattered on the floor.

All at once, Erik turned around.

" _You don't have to stay any longer."_  
Raoul knelt and began to collect the porcelain in his palm, ignoring what Erik had said.  
" _You have seen me now, and you don't have to stay from some awful inward obligation, or worse,_ **pity.** You can go."

 Raoul said nothing and continued to pick up the larger pieces of porcelain, throwing a handful in the nearest trashcan. He was about to kneel down and pick up as much of the rest as possible, when he tripped over a larger piece and fell onto the worst of the shards. Crying out in pain, Raoul lifted his arms to reveal pieces of porcelain lodged in his skin running from his fingertips to his forearms. Erik ran towards him quickly, forgetting all about the mask as he helped Raoul up with a worried look on his face. Quickly he led Raoul to his kitchen and started taking out the biggest pieces. He thumbed away a tear on Raoul's cheek and continued to work quietly, trying to be fast but hurt Raoul as little as possible. Not many of the cuts were deep, but one on his inner wrist was deeper than the rest. Raoul shivered as it slid out of his wrist, blood oozing slowly but surely from the cut. There were a total of six cuts on his left arm, the dominant arm and hand, four large, three minuscule. _"Waggle your fingers."_ Raoul did so quickly and let out a gasp of pain.

Erik made short work of Raoul's right arm, which only had four pieces, all relatively small. " _Move your fingers."_ Erik commanded. Raoul wiggled his fingers easily. Erik quickly walked towards a cabinet and pulled out some gauze and tape out, fumbling back over to Raoul.

Raoul sighed as Erik taped the gauze in thick strips to the cuts on his arm. "I don't pity you."

 

Erik shook his head dismissively, letting previously-slicked away long clumps of hair fall into his face.

 

_"I don't pity you, Erik. I don't feel obligated to stay here either. I'm not repulsed or even mildly frightened by the scars on your face."_ Erik visibly tensed at the word 'scar', and Raoul briefly considered the possibility of it being a trigger.

 

Erik finished with the tape and stood up uncomfortably, his white sleeves rolled up past his elbows and strands of hair covering his eyes. He sighed and wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead, shivering when he touched where the scar began. Raoul stood up and walked close to Erik. "Does it hurt?" he asked, feeling small and vulnerable. Erik shook his head. _"No, but I try not to make a habit of touching it."_ Raoul nodded and shifted his weight from one side to the other. "I'd like to _apologize for breaking_ your mask. I'll pay for it."

Erik shook his head. "It's fine." 

Raoul smiled "No, I'll pay for another one, really."

_"You don't have to."_

_"I'm buying you another fucking mask."_

Erik gave a small smile, which made Raoul laugh.

 

With a small gasp of epiphany, Erik blushed, looking down at the floor.

Misinterpreting the gesture, Raoul smiled, thinking about why the mask broke in the first place. He remembered how warm Erik felt against him. His own coldness must've been off-putting, and he frowned.

 

Erik cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about the marks. They shouldn't leave marks if you keep them bandaged properly. The one on your wrist might leave a scar, though." Raoul tilted his head in confusion.

" _Oh, right. My apologies. I'm sorry about the mess, but if you keep them clean they shouldn't scar. Of course, the one on your wrist might."_

Raoul looked at his left wrist. He stiffened his fingers and laughed quietly. " _I won't be writing for a while."_ Erik tensed in fear at these blunt words.

"I'm so sorry."

" _What's done is done."_

Raoul did not realize that Erik used his native language as a shield, nor that he was doing the same.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Erik waiting for Raoul to leave and Raoul expecting Erik to tell him to do so.

Neither made a move.

* * *

 

Eventually, Raoul offered a slight smile. " _I'd apologize once more for the mask, but I think we're even now."_

 

"Would you like some tea?" Erik asked carefully.

" _Yes, that would be nice."_

_A pause. "Erik, seeing underneath your mask has not affected my feelings towards you whatsoever."_ This was just what Erik needed to hear, but he tensed habitually, freezing in place, the bag of tea dangling from his fist. 

" _Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."_ Raoul whispered. He heard a teacup breaking.

 

"I'm a mess."

At this, Raoul padded into the kitchen softly. He put his hands on Erik's shoulders and spun the taller man to face him.

"You are not a mess. Look at me.  _You are not a mess."_

 " _Why are you okay with this? With me?"_

"Why wouldn't I be?" He relaxed, confidently taking the hand of Erik's that wasn't currently prodding the forgotten tea with a spoon. Erik shook his head.

 

"Now, calm down. The tea is about to get too heavy."

"Strong." Erik corrected, smiling at the foreign man.

"Strong." Raoul repeated, solidifying it in his mind.

 

In a fit of excitement, Raoul stood on his tiptoes and kissed his marred cheek which made both men blush an astounding red. Erik quickly separated himself and grabbed a broom. _"Go stand over there. You can't get hurt over there."_ He told Raoul jokingly who nodded, walking over to Isobel and sitting carefully on her bench.

 

Nearly an hour later, after both the teacup and the mask were cleaned up and both men's spirits were lifted, Raoul left, red nosed and wearing Erik's coat.

* * *

 

" _Hello, Philippe, I've unveiled the-"_

_"Raoul! Raoul!"_ Philippe was sobbing hysterically.

" _Philippe, calm down! What is it?"_

_"Therese... Raoul!"_ His cries echoed.

" _Raoul!"_ Philippe attempted to smoothen out his breathing.

"Mother _.. T-Therese was in a car crash this morning."  
_ Raoul gasped. "Is she okay, Philippe?"

Philippe cried out, his sobs racking Raoul from his head to his toes.

" _No! She isn't okay! Therese is dead!"_

_The phone fell to the floor, and Raoul with it. He put his head in his hands and grabbed the vase on the table next to him. His mother had given him that vase. He kissed the lip over and over, holding on to the sacred piece of Therese he still had. He thought about his friends back in Norway, considered calling them before Philippe, calming down all at once, spoke up.  
_

_"She got hit by a man in a pickup truck, who's truck went out of control. There was no foul play involved."_

_"Are you sure?"  
"Yes Raoul. I am sure. I'm sure because..." He let out a long sob. "It was Tom. He isn't holding up well." _

_"Tom?" Raoul tried to stop crying but it was in vain._  
Tom was an old friend of Philippe's. They had been close all of their lives, a little too close. Actually, they had been in love. Philippe only confided this in Raoul, but they had plans. Tom was going to move to America as soon as he could, get married, possibly even adopt.  
_A broken sob came from somewhere that sounded like the edge of the room, and only then did Raoul notice that he had thrown the phone at the wall. Raoul curled in on himself._

_"Raoul, talk to me."_

_"Raoul, can you hear me? Come pick up the phone." Philippe's voice was shaky, and Raoul noticed the pain in it, but made no move to get the phone._

This was when Rudelle walked in. "I got fresh groceries. Lately you've looked like you've-" She noticed Raoul on the floor, and the bags slipped from her arms. An orange rolled out onto the floor. "..been needing them. Raoul, what happened?" She knelt towards him.

" _Therese.."_ he gasped and, letting go of his knees, fell so that he was laying on his back.  
  
_"My mother Therese.. She was so beautiful. Rudelle, she was so beautiful! So much prettier than the sods here." He wailed. "I want to go home! To Therese, and to Sindri, and to Father's grave. And Phil-.. Philippe! Tom!" His voice filled with contempt at these two names. "Therese is dead!"_

**_"Raoul! You're babbling. Tell me, Raoul. What is going on?"_** Rudelle's voice was grating which brought Raoul back to the surface.

"My mother is dead." Raoul responded almost robotically, his voice cracking at the last syllable.

"Oh, _honey."_ were the last words Rudelle said before tightly wrapping her arms around Raoul as he cried. This went on for what felt like days, but still wasn't enough.

* * *

 

Raoul didn't realize how far gone he was until he woke up in Rudelle's bed, with the sheets tear stained and an unhappy Rudelle on the floor.

_"You cuddled with me for about 15 minutes before muttering something about Tom and pushing me on the floor. Raoul, you've been skipping class for almost a week. People are getting worried. If your ass isn't in the shower in 15, I'm dragging it there. Fully clothed, too."_

  
_"I'm going to buy you some breakfast. Please don't do anything dangerous again while I'm out."  
_ Raoul nodded, wondering what he had done that she was referring to. Most memories from the past week had been blurred with alcohol, replaced by anxiety meds, or entirely erased by a mixture of the two.

He trudged over the shower, stripped unceremoniously and got under the cold spray before it had the chance to warm up.

Surprisingly, Raoul didn't flinch as the cold water soaked him through. He didn't notice it warm up, or back away when it was scalding. Eventually he got out of the shower, dried off, and looked around in the dorm house. It had four bedrooms, a bathroom, and a central room with a microwave. All four rooms were occupied, but Raoul had never met the other two roomates. They were both girls. As the new student in the middle of the semester, this was the only room left, and Raoul had to take it. _He_ was encroaching _their_ territory. The rooms were as clean as always. Raoul tried not to worry how many messes he had made for Rudelle to clean up.

Raoul picked up the phone slowly, and dialed one of the four American phone numbers he knew. (One of them was his own.)

" _Raoul?" A deep voice asked hesitantly._

_"Erik." His voice was dull and arid._

_"What's going on?"  
"My mother died." No emotion was in his voice, none crossed his features._

_"I.. Raoul, I'm so sorry. What happened? Are you okay?"_

_"I'm fine. She was.. She was in a car crash."  
_

_"Raoul?"_

_"It's alright." Raoul's voice was monotonous and couldn't compete with the thick silence of the room.  
_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Yes, I'm sure."_

_"How are you holding up?_  
"I'm fine, Erik!"

_"Okay."_

_There was silence, and Erik hung up.  
_

 

Raoul turned off his phone, ignoring the buzzing that told Raoul that Philippe was calling. _Let him call_ , Raoul thought to himself. He didn't plan on answering any time soon.

Raoul ignored the texts, not even pausing to read them from the drop-down notifications list.

Hesitantly, Raoul finally went to a few classes, showing up in baggy sweatshirts and scraggled hair. The students whispered behind his back, and Rudelle cussed them out in Norwegian when the teacher thought she was translating. Rudelle didn't have to translate much any more. She still translated the occasional few words, but with all of this time moping, Raoul had learned some pretty steady English.

* * *

 

There was a knock at the door. "Go away, Rudelle." Raoul shouted. The person, decidedly _not_ Rudelle, knocked a second time and Raoul opened the door to see Erik, holding a bouquet of white carnations and the occasional odd yellow chrysanthemum, which he offered to Raoul.

Raoul, tired and childish as he was, stuck his tongue out and did not take the flowers, turning his back to Erik and retreating to the familiar grey couch. Understanding, Erik busied himself finding a vase and stuck the flowers in it. Then, he opened up the curtains concealing the two windows. Raoul hissed.

 

" _You need to let some light in, clean yourself up, and get something to eat."_

_"Who says?"_  
  
"I do, Raoul. Go take a shower and when you are done there will be food on the table."

Raoul rolled his eyes and went for a shower.

 

Just as promised, there was a warm meal waiting for him when he returned.

 

And everything felt homey. Not normal, but homey. Raoul went to class that day, and Erik started coming over every afternoon. Bearing a rose and a nice meal. The dorm was cleaner when he left than when he entered, and as was Raoul. Erik looked after Raoul when Rudelle couldn't.

Eventually, the dorm was cleaner than when Raoul moved in. Eventually, Raoul went to all of his classes. Eventually, Erik began to press the roses just before they were about to brown.

And it was okay. Raoul was okay.

Even if it only lasted a little while. Raoul was okay.

* * *

 

" _Phil?"_  
  
"Raoul?!" Hesitation and excitement mingled in his voice.

" _I'm sorry, Philippe. I'm really sorry. But I can't."  
_

_"Forgive Tom? He's out of the picture. It wasn't cut out to work anyways."_

_"That's understandable."_

And so calls like this happened often. An awkward formality settled between the two brothers. It was revealed that Tom had been drunk. He was arrested and eventually drove himself insane with the weight of what didn't even appear to be a risk at the time.

Philippe and Raoul arranged a visit to discuss the will, Sindri, and everything else still in Norway. Erik became as close of a friend to Raoul as a lover.

So things weren't exactly happy the way they ended. But they were okay.

**Author's Note:**

> tw; minor character death, panic attacks, prescription drug over usage, mixture of alcohol and prescription drugs, graphic depictions of burn scars
> 
>  
> 
> PLEASE DON'T ASK ME WHY RAOUL MOVED TO THE USA TO GO TO COLLEGE. 
> 
> Rudelle is German. She's a first class polyglot, knowing just about every language there is fluently.
> 
> I'm sorry if I make any college mistakes. (I'm not in college.) Yes, I know that college would probably not do the whole translator benefits. I just.
> 
> WHATUP PERSIA REFFERENCE.
> 
> The hymn was Oh, Come Emmanuel. One of my favorites.  
> The whole scene with the piano was kinda to mimic Beautiful in LND. Also, idk how easy it is for a guy with normal sized hands to reach 2 over an octave, but I have tiny female hands that can only reach an octave. (One over is a stretch.) and yes, the whole piano scene is way unrealistic but PIANO MAGIC
> 
> I inadvertently made a SPN refference- did anyone catch it? Let me know!
> 
> This ended up really dark w Therese's death and for that I apologize. As for the anxiety meds and alcohol thing, I did my research and found Benzodiazepine, a very real anxiety medication that can cause some drug-induced amnesia, especially when mixed with things like other types of pills or alcohol. Raoul is fine and did not take the kind of drugs you can get high from, nor did he take enough to overdose and hurt himself. 
> 
> To SakuAi,  
> What do you think about the language progression? Raoul is pretty sucky at English for the entire thing. I liked that. Erik steadily is becoming better and better at Norwegian, but, when you're 35, alone, and work at home, you have a truckload of freetime. 
> 
> Am I using too many declarative sentences? I'm really working on that.
> 
> Thank you for being an outstanding writer and a wonderful source for inspiration!


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